Renaissance
by sweettooth7
Summary: A Caryl reunion fic, set in the events after the season 4 finale. Daryl has lost all hope of ever living a peaceful life, and then he hears her name and it all changes in an instant.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello fellow Carylers!**

**Well, I've written a reunion fic (partially), and this is it. I'm not sure why, but I'm actually quite nervous to post this. I'm sure it's because I've put a lot of pressure on this season 5 reunion to be epic (bad idea). And also, I wanted to get it posted before the Talking Dead special on July 6th, because if they show a season 5 trailer that is so wildly different from what I've come up with here, I know I'll never post it ; )**

**That said, I really, REALLY hope you all enjoy this!**

**It will likely end up being three chapters, and this one is definitely the longest. ****The second one is already written, though I would _love_ to hear your feedback to see if maybe I will end up switching directions with it.**

**ENJOY, and CARYL ON! : )**

* * *

Daryl lay on the hot concrete, unable to move, the hot sun beaming down on him through the haze-filled air. His eyes were shut tight, and all he could smell was burning, smoke and the familiar stench of death. Always death.

His muscles ached. His head ached. His skin ached.

The battle had taken every last bit of anything out of him. All of the fight. All of the give a damn. What was he even fighting for anymore anyway?

But he had fought, and fought. With every last ounce of everything he had inside of him, he fought and killed and pushed and brawled. He didn't know how it started, didn't know how it ended. All he knew was that the sounds of gunshots, explosions and screaming were loud and alarming as they all stayed trapped in that train car. And then the door opened somehow, sunlight blaring in their eyes and a bag of weapons lay at their feet. Rick's buried bag of weapons.

So they didn't ask questions, they just armed themselves as fast as they could and fought to the death.

And for what? For who?

Certainly not for himself. He was starting to wonder why he was even alive anymore.

Judith. Beth. Carol. All gone.

He had lost Beth. She'd been right there – safe – and he lost her. She'd disappeared from right under his nose because he let his guard down for _one minute_, and the unbearable guilt had consumed him ever since that fucking car drove away from him with Beth inside. He ran so far and for so long, and it was like he was chasing the ghost of Sophia all over again.

_Sophia_.

Only, this time, it was _his_ loss. _His_ cross to bear. The cost of losing her was his and his alone. And it weighed on him so heavily that he became desperate for an outlet. Desperate for help. Desperate for guidance.

_How did you do this, Carol? I _need_ you to tell me what to do._

As he ran after the car that took the girl, he realized that he could now understand that last and final piece of Carol that he never could before. Something she'd held the heavy weight of all on her own that he could never touch. He'd done all he ever could for her, to help make it better, but he never truly understood. Finally, after all this time, it clicked into place.

Daryl never could see how she could lose hope for finding her little girl; how she could just give up the way it seemed she had.

_We don't know if we're gonna find her, Daryl. _I_ don't. _

But with every passing hour as he ran after the vehicle that took Beth from him, his hope of finding her had faded until there was nothing left to fight for.

She was just gone.

Had Beth been his kin, would it have been worse? Worse than the excruciating feeling of helplessness and guilt that devoured him now? Was Carol's pain over losing Sophia even more profound than what he now felt?

He couldn't imagine that. Couldn't imagine how she had survived it, because he wasn't sure how he was supposed to survive this.

Losing that girl tore him up inside, and although he didn't know if he'd ever see Carol again, the experience tethered him to her in a whole new way. Daryl ached for her. To have her hold him and tell him he would be fine, it would be alright. He would make it through this loss, as she had. He'd learn to accept it; it was just something that happened. There was nothing that could have been done. It wasn't his fault.

He couldn't shake the grief of this loss. He couldn't shake the total responsibility he held.

Beth was only a few years older than Sophia would have been. Had she had made it this far, it could have been Sophia that he'd lost. They'd done this dance before, and it didn't end well the first time.

And Carol had been the strongest person he'd ever known. Her little girl was ripped from her arms and turned into one of the monsters they all feared they'd turn into. She had to look into her baby's eyes and see the nothingness that she'd become.

But still, Carol pushed and pushed, turning herself into someone new, using her grief for good. He knew she would never forget what happened on the farm that day. It was why she took charge of the children and taught them how to protect themselves. It was a part of her.

Now Beth was a part of him too. And he lost her.

He was a disappointment. How would Hershel feel if he'd seen how careless Daryl had been with his daughter? He had failed him, and he had failed Maggie. He had been responsible for that girl, and he fucked the whole thing up. And it was all just another reminder of what a worthless human being he was.

He considered giving up. This life had proven to be about losing people, over and over again. He was just going to end up alone, and that was what Daryl Dixon had feared the most. Maybe joining forces with Joe and that group of fuckers had been his own personal brand of giving up on this life.

And then, as he lay there on the concrete replaying his laundry list of shortcomings, there was a voice that brought him back. A voice that brought him out of his apathy and back to this reality, causing his heart to pound so furiously in his chest that he had the instinct to tell someone to call 911. An instinct that should have been long dead, because there was no help anymore. No hope.

But that piercing cry had his attention. It was Carl. And he was screaming his baby sister's name.

Daryl shut his eyes tighter at the sound. He didn't want to see what had become of Judith to make Carl scream that way. He didn't want to open his eyes and find out it was all a hallucination to begin with.

"Judith! Oh my God, Judith! _Judith_!"

And then he heard Rick, crying his daughter's name right along with Carl.

"Ty?"

Daryl's jaw clenched as he heard Sasha's emotional cry of her brother's name. So many tears, he couldn't tell whose was whose anymore.

He wouldn't believe Judith was here. And Tyreese. Why would they be here? Why would they be here _together_? He had to think about it for a second.

Daryl was sure he was at Terminus. He was sure he had been trapped in a train car with a paltry few members of their group, plus a few more. He was sure they had just battled through something so horrible, and that there were dead bodies all around them. At least, he thought he was sure. This didn't make any sense. He had to be hallucinating.

And then it was Glenn's strangled voice that made his eyes snap open, staring into the smoke-filled sky. As though the use of this extra sense would help him make heads or tails of it all.

"Carol? Oh my God. _Carol_!"

No.

This had to be a dream. Or else he was dead. But he forced himself to find out, one way or another.

Daryl pulled himself up slowly, his body feeling much heavier than he remembered it being, the task feeling so incredibly daunting.

As he stood and and his eyes focussed on the scene in front of him, he saw the back of her as she was wrapped in Glenn's arms. He saw Glenn's face, his eyes shut tight as he held her. Daryl paid no attention to Maggie a few feet away, sobbing into her hands. He paid no attention to the Grimes' rejoicing over their reunion. He paid no attention to Tyreese and Sasha, holding onto one another for dear life.

His eyes were on her, and he watched as she pulled back from Glenn, her hand coming up to her face to wipe the tears from her eyes before her head searched from side to side. He could see that her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

She was still talking, still asking questions – _Did anyone else make it here? Daryl? Is he here? – _when she had turned around and spotted him. Her words died on her lips and her hand flew to her chest as she sucked in a shocked breath of relief when her eyes took in his beaten form.

His breath was heavy as he watched her let out a choking sob when her eyes met his. He wanted to go to her, _so_ badly, but he was frozen. He didn't believe she was real. He squinted through his watering eyes, breath still coming hard and fast, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him at the sight of her.

She walked towards him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, too slowly for his liking.

And when she reached him, his face couldn't hide the overwhelming torment and fear and _relief_, and so he dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching desperately at her waist and burying his face into her belly.

He felt her fingers weave themselves into his hair, and each brush of them on his scalp sent him reeling as she held him tightly to her.

His eyes were squeezed shut as he took a deep breath, as though her scent could hold him here in this moment, in this life. As though it was the only thing to reassure him that she was here, and she was alive. And so was he, and he didn't want to die, not anymore.

And then he felt her hands on his, prying his fingers off of her shirt before she dropped down to her knees in front of him.

He opened his eyes when he felt her fingertips on his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. But his vision was blurred by the onslaught of tears, and he blinked furiously to clear them. He needed to see her.

"Daryl," she muttered, and choked out another sob.

He buried his face into her neck and let the tears flow.

"Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…" she said his name over and over like a prayer, and his hands clutched furiously to the shirt on her back, pressing her as close to him as he could manage.

He immersed himself in the sound of her soft voice saying his name, letting himself drown in it.

He felt the warmth of the crook of her neck on his lips and he reacted on instinct, placing tear-soaked kisses on her skin. He revelled in the sound of the sigh that escaping her as he kissed her over and over. Savoured the feeling of her breath on his ear.

She tried to pull back, but he scrambled to not let her go, tugging her against him a little harder. When he felt her hands push a little more forcefully on his shoulders, he relented, moving back only far enough to bring his face in front of hers.

She traced her fingers lightly over the blackness on his eyes, the cuts on his face, the bump on his forehead. Her face scrunched up in concern at the wounds she could see. And all the while, he watched her face, letting his eyes travel over every inch, thanking whatever divine holiness that may be out there that she was alive and that they were together.

He wanted to tell her everything. Needed to know what she would say to him once he'd let it all out. If she hated him for what he'd done, if she'd thought him a lesser man for losing that child, it would be all the validation he needed.

His eyes met hers as she continued her inspection of his battered face.

"Beth," he whispered, just barely.

She looked into his eyes, confused. "Beth?"

"I lost her," he said simply, but his sadness radiated through the tenors of his voice.

Her eyes widened as she was hit with grief for a lost member of their group. For Beth, a young woman she loved so deeply. She understood what he was telling her then, and she felt such empathy for this man – her man – that fresh tears spilled over her cheeks, sharing the pain he felt for the lost girl.

And just like that, in one brief, fleeting instant, he felt a little bit lighter.

"Daryl," she breathed again, her hands on his neck and fingers in his hair, and brushed her lips so lightly on his. "Daryl," she repeated, pressing her forehead against his and kissing his mouth gently once more. "Oh, God, Daryl."

She brought her arms around his neck then, burying her face into his hair and inhaling the scent of him. The wonderfully filthy and _alive_ scent of him.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. But he couldn't. There was nothing left inside of him, not right now. So he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her shaking form and held on for dear life.

She was here. And that was all he could deal with right now.

"Carol," Rick's voice came from behind her, and they both turned their heads to the sound, still holding on tightly to one another.

Daryl couldn't explain why his anger at Rick chose to present itself in that moment. But he glared at the man, and he knew Rick got the message when his eyes flickered briefly to Daryl before turning back to Carol.

But Carol saw something in Rick's eyes as he clenched his jaw and took a breath. So she stood up, Daryl moving to stand along with her, and she placed a hand on Daryl's chest, imploring him with her eyes to let it lie. He was hesitant to let her go, but ultimately conceded.

Carol moved to stand in front of Rick, who was holding Judith tightly to him. Jude was tugging on his jacket, trying to get the buttons into her mouth.

He looked dejected when he finally opened his mouth to say, "I'm sorry."

And she knew he meant it. Knew by the way he couldn't keep his face unruffled. Knew by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes blinked, and when his sights flickered between her and Judith, he squared himself as best he could and said, "Thank you."

"Tyreese," she began, glancing to the man who was glued tightly to his sister's side. "He saved her. It was Tyreese."

"No," Tyreese chimed in then, coming to stand beside Carol. "We wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for Carol. She saved Judith's life."

Carol took a deep breath, looking towards the ground as she willed away the wave of tears she knew were pushing their way through. She knew what Tyreese was referring to. Saving Judith meant killing Lizzie. She couldn't get the visuals out of her head. Lizzie standing proudly next to her dead sister's side, one short minute away from butchering Judy in the same fashion. Carol's shaking hand pointing the gun at the little girl's head.

She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the images.

Daryl came to stand on Carol's other side now, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The girls," he said sadly. "No one's seen 'em. 'M sorry."

She flinched away from his hand at the mere mention of the girls, moving so that her back was almost right up against Tyreese as she looked wide-eyed at Daryl.

He would surely hate her for what she'd done, would certainly begin to think her a monster. Her murder count was up to three now. Three people, she'd killed with her bare hands. One of them a child.

Daryl's eyes travelled from Carol to Tyreese and back again, confusion settling on his brow. The way Ty stood, hovering protectively over her, sent an unwanted wave of jealousy flowing violently through him. Something had happened, and it was something Daryl had no part of. Something they shared that had clearly bound them together in a profound way.

The crying. The crying wouldn't stop. Just as soon as Carol thought she had herself under control, a fresh batch of tears would be pooling in her eyes and she would be crying all over again.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, to no one in particular, though she said it for Daryl. She worked up the courage to look him in the eye and apologized once again. "I'm so sorry."

Daryl was confused, and it was clear on his face. "Carol," he began, reaching towards her, but she put up a hand and cut him off mid-motion. She stayed close to Tyreese, though, and that certainly didn't escape his notice.

As though Tyreese was protecting her from _him_. As though this secret they held was something that would make him turn against her.

_Never_.

When he saw that she wouldn't – couldn't – say anything more, he ground his teeth together and glared her way. She was pushing him away, and he couldn't understand why.

His lip quivered as he tried not to cry, and he couldn't think clearly through his unexpected fury.

"Why'd you tell Rick?" he asked her suddenly, and her eyes snapped up to his.

"He asked me, Daryl. He figured it out. I couldn't lie. I told you I couldn't lie."

Rick stepped forward then, Judith now back with her big brother, and looked at Daryl incredulously.

"You knew? You knew about Karen and David?"

Daryl's anger was quickly redirected at Rick as he spun around and pushed himself directly into Rick's face.

"Yeah, I _knew_. And I told her not to tell anyone. Because I was gonna _help_ her. Because she's one of our _own_." he growled. And then he turned back to her, pointing accusingly. "You promised me you wouldn't say nothin'," he cried.

It was too overwhelming. Too much at once. He didn't hate her, wasn't angry with her, not at all, but he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered feverishly, closing the gap between them – _finally_. She wrapped her small hands around one of his biceps, trying to get him to look at her.

He tried shaking her off, but she grabbed hold of the front of his vest and tugged at him firmly.

When he finally looked at her, his tear-soaked face tore at her insides and she grabbed his face. "I'm sorry. I couldn't lie, Daryl. I couldn't."

All the fight drained out of him little by little. He sniffed, nodding his assent. "I know. I know."

He sank into her then, leaning his forehead on her shoulder as they held onto one another tightly. He would have to know what happened, Carol knew, but right now was the time for _this_, for him. And she wouldn't rush it. She refused.

No one knew how long they had left.

* * *

**You know what I've noticed with Daryl throughout the series? He's always asking Carol (mind you, in a snarky way) what she wants from him. Hmmm...perhaps a roundabout, Dixon-style way of wanting to make her happy? Let's go with that ; )**

**Oh, and also, I'm not sure why I _constantly_ have Maggie crying off to the side of the action, but apparently that's what I picture her doing all the time, ha! **

**Thank you for reading! oxox**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back with Chapter 2! This one is a flashback, and I hope I've done it justice. I'm still a little wishy-washy about this whole storyline. Something just seems so off about what Carol did, and the way Rick handled it. I dunno...I suppose since I'm watching a show about zombies, I should let these things go, haha : P**

**Thank you all a million times for your sweet, sweet reviews. They're just the best thing ever. : ) It really gets me all excited to get a notification of a new review. Woohoo!**

**I also wanted to point out that, in Chapter 1, I realize I didn't address the fact that no one else knew what Carol did when Rick said it out loud (and would have had pretty big reactions, I'm sure), or the fact that Daryl and Rick didn't know that Tyreese knew the truth...anyways, it's kind of bothering me and I might actually change that part. But every time I go to write something, it's like ten other complications pop up that need to be fixed. *sigh***

**Oh, and I should probably add a disclaimer, right? I am not affiliated in any way, shape or form with TWD and own nothing that you may recognize (boo!).**

* * *

Carol didn't know where else to go.

She hadn't a clue what to do with herself, now that she'd turned her entire life upside down in a matter of minutes. But it wasn't just her life that would be so intensely affected, and that's what hurt her the most.

So she went to Daryl's cell and hid there, praying he'd come back soon, and that no one would come looking for her there. Praying he wouldn't hate her after she told him what she'd done.

He had been looking all over the prison for her after the chaos of Patrick dying and taken half the prison with him. He just wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay. And his own cell was the last place he'd thought to search.

"There you are," he said with a smile when he saw the back of her figure standing at his dresser. "Been lookin' for y-"

"His words were cut off abruptly as she spun around to face him, hands covering her mouth and tears streaming fast down her face.

"The fuck happened?" he asked urgently, tossing his crossbow on his bunk and flying quickly to her side.

She shook her head, her hands not budging from their place, clasped tightly over her mouth, and she sprouted more tears.

"Carol," he breathed, his hands coming to rest on her biceps, bringing himself down to her eye level. "Tell me."

Her glassy eyes stared widely at him for another brief moment before she finally drew her hands away slowly, holding them helplessly at her sides, clenching and unclenching her fists. As though the motion would buy her some time. Or at least give her the strength to pull it together long enough to tell him.

"I..." but she couldn't finish. She shook her head again in an attempt to clear her mind and find the words. She'd come here for a reason, she had to tell him. He had to know. She needed him.

He waited her out, giving her arms a reassuring squeeze.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, closed her eyes for a beat, and looked into his eyes.

"I killed them," she whispered as she fought back a cry, though there was barely a sound that escaped.

"What?" he asked in disbelief, drawing his body back slightly to get a better look at her. He had no idea who or what she was talking about.

"Karen and David. I...killed them."

He had to strain to hear her, she was whispering so quietly so no one else would hear, and he couldn't believe his ears.

He turned swiftly to shut his cell door, pulling his sheet down for privacy. It was darker now, but he could still make out the glassiness of her eyes, wet and red from her never-ending tears.

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" he hissed as he returned to her.

"I went this morning to check on them, bring them some water," she began, but stopped to allow a sob to escape. "David. He was...he was choking. Daryl, he was choking," she repeated in a heated whisper, her hand coming up to her throat as if to illustrate what that meant. "He couldn't breathe. I didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to just sit there beside him and just watch him _die_? Leave him there and go about my day? I couldn't leave him."

She paused once more, shaking her head against the visuals that wouldn't escape her mind. She would never forget this day, it had changed her irrevocably. "He reached for my knife. He put it in...in my hand. And then he took my hand, Daryl, and he pointed my knife at his head. Right in the middle of his forehead," she went through the motions, illustrating her story to him so that he would understand. But just as her hands came up in a mimicking manner to her forehead, she became incoherent again as she cried, attempting a steadying breath before going on with her story. "And he was staring at me with these eyes, they were all red, and he just looked so scared."

Daryl pinched at the bridge of his nose as he listened to her story, in shock at what she was telling him, and feeling sorry that she'd had to be the one. That she had to be alone.

"I told him no, and he squeezed my hand and he couldn't even talk but I saw his mouth moving, begging me, 'please'. I freaked out. I freaked out. I just...freaked out. And then his eyes rolled back into his head and he started convulsing and the choking...he was dying...I couldn't...couldn't watch him," and she shut her eyes tight, bringing a hand up to cover them as though that would help.

All Daryl could do was gape at her.

"So I did it. I did it. Oh my God," she cried.

He took a deep breath. Ran a hand over his face. His mind was already working hard to find a solution.

"What happened to Karen?" he asked softly. But he knew there was no part of this story that would help Tyreese sleep at night. He'd be out for blood.

She looked up at him and took a steadying breath.

"I went to see her. There was blood everywhere. All over her pillow. She was asleep, I think. But the blood. It was…she had blood running all down her face. Like it was leaking out of her eyes, Daryl. I didn't know what to do. She didn't even know I was there. I checked her pulse. It was so...so weak. I just...I just..."

He didn't hesitate then. Didn't want her to have to finish that sentence. He gathered her swiftly into his arms and held her tightly as she cried silently.

"It's okay, it's alright. We'll...we'll figure this out." He murmured.

They stood that way for a few quiet minutes and then he realized.

"What did you do with them?" he muttered.

"I...burned them. I dragged them outside. I...thought maybe that might stop it from spreading to anyone else. I freaked out...I'm freaking out."

He looked down at her, horror clear in his eyes.

"Why didn't you come to me?" he growled. He couldn't imagine her doing that, all alone. He would have helped, would have done something. If someone had caught her in the act and she'd been alone…

He couldn't think about that. It worked out as it should have. This way, he'd be able to protect her.

"I panicked. I didn't think...I just..."

"It's alright," he repeated. "We'll figure it out."

And then he pulled her back tightly into him. His hand placed protectively on the back of her head, holding her against his shoulder as his mind flew rampant at a thousand miles a second.

"You need to stop cryin', alright? You need to get it together, and keep quiet 'bout this."

"But Daryl-"

He grabbed her by the arms once more.

"No way, Carol. No fuckin' way. You ain't tellin' a soul, you hear me? No one. Not even Jude. You keep quiet until I get back with those meds. I'll bring Ty with us, make sure he stays away from you. And then I'll come back and we'll figure this shit out. Promise me, Carol," he urged.

She was motionless - speechless - as she looked up at him with desperation in her eyes.

"I can't lie," she squeaked. "What if someone figures it out? I can't, Daryl."

"Fuckin' promise me. _Say it_," he implored, ignoring her pleas.

"I promise," she finally conceded with a defeated whisper.

He pulled her in tight and held her firmly against him, and her hands flew up to his back, squeezing for dear life.

He was fighting back his own tears when he whispered fiercely, "We're gonna be _fine_."

They both jumped when they heard Tyreese's bellowing shout come from down below.

"_Daryl!_"

"Stay here," Daryl told her. "You stay right here."

She shook her head and mumbled a quiet, "no", holding onto his arm desperately as he moved towards his cell door.

He shook her off in an attempt to get to Tyreese as quickly as he could, and Carol held back for only a brief moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself before she followed Rick, Daryl and Tyreese out the door where the burnt bodies of their friends lay.

* * *

**...aaaaaand that brings us to the beginning of episode 4x03 (I think?)...the one that starts with Ty freaking out about what happened.**

**The next chapter will bring us back to Terminus (and let's be honest, guys, I have no clue what's going on there, which is why I started Chapter 1 the way I did. I'll just skip over the big giant question mark that I can't figure out, thankyouverymuch) ; )**

**Thank you so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**YES! I made it before the Talking Dead special on Sunday : ) I'm hoping we'll get some insight in some way for what's to come, Caryl-wise...until then, here's the final chapter of the reunion that I cooked up in my head.**

**I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter, which is why it's taken me so long to post. But it brought me closure, at least, and I hope you feel the same.**

**Thank you so much for your unbelievably kind reviews...I really and truly can't say it enough, it sends me over the moon to see that you're enjoying my little stories!**

* * *

She joined him on the roof of the train car, not long after she'd noticed he climbed up there. It was dark – the middle of the night – and the group had only just began settling down to wait for the morning.

They would be travelling at first light, on their way to find another home, or something close to it.

Only a select few were sleeping, but Daryl and Carol had yet had the opportunity to be alone. To share what they'd been through since the prison. To lean on one another.

So Daryl left the group and made his way towards the red train cars, knowing that she would notice, and that she would follow close behind.

Once she reached the top of the ladder, she saw him sitting at the edge with his legs dangling over the edge. He didn't look up or acknowledge her presence at all, but internally took comfort in her mere presence. The simple fact that he didn't have to ask her to follow him, that they still had that connection despite the myriad of hells they'd been through since they'd last seen one another, comforted him in a way that amazed him. She was here, and that fact alone made him feel safer. Like it was a new beginning for him, for them.

A renaissance.

She sat herself down at his side, cross-legged, letting her knee rest atop his thigh. He didn't flinch at the contact and neither did she. And neither of them opened their mouths to speak for several minutes. Several long, drawn out minutes where Carol tried to figure out a way to tell her story.

She decided to start from the beginning.

"I thought maybe you had died."

He looked at her then, studying her profile, his full attention on her. Of all the things he knew they had to say, that wasn't something he'd expected to hear.

"I went back to the prison after Rick left me. I had to. And I saw you, "she paused, her brow crinkled in sorrow at the memory. "There was an explosion. That tank…and you were right _there_."

He watched her as she spoke, picking at the calluses at the palm of his hand, watching her lips move. Hearing her voice waver. He drank it all in.

"And then I couldn't see you anymore. I thought maybe…" she swallowed back her tears. "But you didn't." She smiled slightly and glanced at him, her glassy eyes flickering away from him a little too quickly. But she was too happy to see him – too happy to be sitting next to him – that she knew she would break down if she looked at him for too long.

There was a beat long enough for him to fill the silence with a statement he didn't think through before blurting out loud.

"Lizzie and Mika, I didn't see them. I'm sorry."

"Daryl," she pleaded, cutting him off swiftly after the words left his lips. "Don't. The girls…"

She took a deep breath and started talking.

_Here we go_, she thought. This was the moment everything between them would change forever.

"The girls. They were with us. With Tyreese, when I found them all."

Daryl cast a sideways glance her way, curious about her story. Relieved that she'd found those two little girls. But then a pang of despair knocked his relief on its side as he realized this wouldn't end well. Mika and Lizzie weren't here with her, obviously.

"We were headed here. And then we found this house - a pecan grove - thought we might try staying there."

His mind flew immediately to the funeral home. He and Beth were going to stay there. And if that were the case, they may never have found one another again.

"I killed Lizzie."

His gaze flew to her face immediately, the shock evident there, though she wasn't looking in his direction. She was fiddling with the frayed edge of her pants, her eyes glistening with tears in the moonlight.

"She, um, she was...confused. Mika kept telling me…but I never understood." She shook her head, her brow still crinkled in the hopelessness she couldn't shake, her voice sounding as though she was thinking out loud. Still trying to make sense of it all.

Daryl's brow furrowed. He didn't understand what she meant. But Carol continued without him having to prompt her.

"She thought the walkers were...good. She thought it was the answer. Tyreese and I...we shouldn't have left her alone with them."

Daryl reflected back on what he knew about the girl. He knew Mika babied her sometimes, looked out for her in ways a little sister probably shouldn't have to. But he never knew it was anything to really worry about.

"We…we went to get water from the well," she mumbled. "We left Lizzie and Mika with Judith. Fifteen minutes, tops. And then when Tyreese and I came back," her voice trailed off and the tears fell silently down her cheeks, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at Daryl.

This was it. This was the part that would ruin it all.

Daryl looked at her intently, barely blinking as he hung onto her every word. He knew what was coming, what this story was leading up to, and he was sorry. So unbelievably sorry that Carol had to live any of this. That she kept having children thrust into her care and having bad things happen to them. He knew she'd shoulder the blame for it all.

"Mika was…she was lying there. And Lizzie…"

She took a moment to collect herself, covering her face with her hands and inhaling deeply. She could get through this.

"Lizzie had…killed her. With her knife. She stabbed her to death."

Daryl flinched at the words, leaning his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. He couldn't imagine this. Couldn't visualize a child killing another child in his head. But Carol had lived it, and would never live without those images for the rest of her life.

"And she kept saying, 'don't worry, she'll come back,' like it was a good thing. Like she was proud of herself. The smile on her face…she wanted to kill Judith too. She would have. One more minute alone with her, Daryl, and she would have killed Judith too."

Carol heard his loud, sniffling inhale, and it did nothing for her self-control.

"I should have seen it," she sobbed.

He shook his head fiercely, bringing his head up to look at her, adamantly trying to convey to her that it wasn't her fault.

"Don't you dare," he said gruffly.

"We didn't know what to do," she explained as she cried. "She couldn't be around people. We didn't know what to do," her voice broke off and she cried as Daryl pulled her towards him firmly by the back of her neck.

He let her cry and held her tight.

"It ain't your fault, Carol. None of it."

She looked up at him sceptically, her tears dwindling a bit. "It is _entirely_ my fault."

"My fault for losin' Beth, then?" He looked into her eyes, imploring her to understand. He knew she would never blame him for that.

"That's different."

"Ain't that different," he said softly. "You've only known Lizzie for a few months. Ain't long enough for you to know what was wrong with her. And even if you knew, ain't nothin' you coulda done."

She laid her head back down on his shoulder, taking advantage of the fact that he didn't hate her yet and relishing in the feeling of his arm wrapped protectively around her.

But she didn't realize that no matter what happened, he was hers. He was hers, and he knew her. He knew her heart and would never turn his back on her.

"Tell me about Beth," she whispered, taking his free hand in hers and lacing their fingers together.

So he told her everything. Every single detail that he could remember. How he'd turned it all off, stopped caring. About himself, about anyone or anything. How he'd been mean to her. How he'd yelled at her and mocked her and made her feel like she was living on borrowed time.

But then he told her about how strong that girl was. How she'd just lost her daddy in the worst possible way, but she still saw the good in the world. Tried to make him see the good left in the world. Showed him they could move on, make a new life.

Carol smiled to herself as she listened, tracing softly over their linked fingers with her free hand.

She felt so proud of Beth for the strength she had to move on from her loss, and for lending Daryl that strength. When push came to shove, Carol knew the girl had it in her.

"She might still be alive," Carol told him. "Don't think that she's dead. She's a fighter."

"But she might be."

"She might be. But you found Merle after all that time. Maybe we'll find Beth too."

"I needed you," he choked out.

She pulled away from him slightly and looked into his glassy eyes with concern, her free hand coming to his face while her other tightened its grip on his hand.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she whispered, bringing their foreheads together.

"'M sorry for you, too."

"I thought you would hate me."

"Could never hate you. Not ever."

She let his words soak through her, closing her eyes and trying so hard to believe him.

"I can't believe I'm touching you right now," she breathed.

"Thought I'd never see you again."

"Yeah," she agreed, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I was so pissed when Rick told me, Carol. Still am."

She shook her head slightly, their foreheads still touching. "Don't. We can't. We need to let it go, after everything we've all been through. We have to find a way to live together."

Daryl pulled back from her then, furrowing his brow, the look on his face almost disgusted.

"You just forgive him? Just like that?" he asked, incredulously.

"No," she began softly, running her fingers along the leather of his vest. "Not just like that. But, Daryl, I killed a little girl," her quivering voice broke off. "I can't go on holding a grudge. I can't forget, but…what else am I supposed to do? It's a…drop in the bucket," she shrugged, not knowing any other way to put it.

Because it was true. She'd killed Lizzie to save Judith, and Rick knew it. She loved Rick, and she always would. No matter what had happened between them in the past, they were family. And the things she'd been through – the things she'd done – made everything else seem small.

He scoffed at her unconcerned attitude.

"We can leave," he said bluntly.

"Leave? We can't _leave_, are you crazy?"

"We can make it."

"Not for very long," she insisted. "We need people, Daryl. And this is our _family_."

"_You're_ my family," he urged, suddenly taking her face into his hands and drawing her closer. She placed her hands gently on his wrists.

"Daryl, don't let this come between you and Rick. Please."

"Ain't never gonna forget."

"So, don't forget. Don't ever forget. But he does love you, and you love him too. And we need each other."

"So, you and Rick? You're good now?" If his voice hadn't been dripping in skepticism, his eyes would have given him away. He hadn't known what they'd talked about earlier, but he'd seen them together. And it had grated on his nerves to see her at ease with him, to see how friendly their conversation looked from afar.

"Yes," she said, after a beat, her voice firm. "We're family."

She wasn't sure if she was trying to convince _him_ to let it go and live peacefully with the group, or herself.

He let his eyes travel over her face, contemplating her for a moment.

"Tell me," he started, his voice taking on a hard edge. She eyed him nervously. "We're '_family_'," he stated, air quoting the word and he waited for her curt nod before continuing.

"Families fight. Families can't stand one another sometimes. Some days, families can't stand being _near_ one another."

Carol knew he was drawing on their own experiences with the group. That winter on the road had been hard, none of them would ever forget it.

She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. She knew where he was taking this.

"But when all's said and done, families got each other's backs. Families take care of each other. Families do anything to help each other."

He paused, nibbling on the inside of his mouth, watching her desperate attempt not to cry as he did the same. He took a deep breath before speaking again, his voice gruff, barely above a whisper.

"He left you on your own. He _left_ you. Don't tell me you can count on him to survive. Don't tell me you _need_ him."

Carol knew he was right. When it came down to it, she wouldn't trust Rick to take care of her the way she used to. She'd never thought about it before, she had always assumed they'd been bound for eternity, that they'd do anything to help each other out. Brother and sister. Now she couldn't trust that he wouldn't just leave her the second she did something he didn't like.

Still, a part of her knew he hadn't been thinking straight. Rick wasn't himself anymore, after losing Lori. He was unpredictable. He was lost. And she couldn't fault him for that. They all struggled, every single one of them.

But Rick's pain had manifested itself into becoming a person she couldn't trust anymore.

The tears spilled silently down her cheeks, and as they looked at each other for a minute or two, she couldn't talk. Couldn't answer. She had no idea what she could possibly say. He was right.

He took her silence for what it was – agreement – and pushed on.

"You'll always have me. _Always_," he told her, looking straight at her with no question in his voice at all.

"I know. And you have me too."

"You and me, Carol. We'll stay with 'em if that's what you want, if that's what you think is best. We'll stay with 'em. But I won't forget. You..." he broke off and looked away from her, uncertain of how exactly to word his next statement.

She was just...his. It had been that way for longer than either of them had realized, but the separation made it real. Made it unshakeable.

"You come first," he finally said, shaking his head as though there were no other truth in the world. A simple fact. She came first.

She didn't know what to say, but only held his gaze with watery eyes as she attempted formulating her next words.

"Me and you?" she questioned shakily, though she already knew it was true.

"Me and you," he replied with a nod. "Always."

She nodded back at him, looking down briefly at her fingers before turning back to him.

"You should sleep. You've been through hell."

"So have you. C'mere," he said with a jerk of his head, motioning for her to come closer as he lay back on the roof of the train car.

She didn't hesitate in drawing herself closer, fitting herself into his side, his arm coming around her shoulder and rubbing her arm gently.

They lay there for a few minutes, holding one another. Neither could find it in them to go to sleep, though they were so exhausted they could have slept for days. But neither wanted to lose this time. Neither wanted to miss one moment, not yet.

"Daryl," she finally whispered.

"Mmm," he mumbled in return. The relief that came with her nearness wouldn't shake him, and hearing her whisper his name was pure heaven.

"You stink. I don't think you've ever smelled this bad before."

He smirked. "Ain't a bouquet of roses yourself, there, sweetheart."

She smiled wide, snuggling into him further.

"You think we're gonna be okay?"

"I know we are."

Daryl had promised her they'd be okay, back at the prison when she'd confessed what she'd done in his cell.

Except that they weren't. And his promise to her was all he could think about as he wandered around aimlessly in the wilderness with Beth, staying alive just for the sake of it. Failure.

_She_ was all he could think about.

This time would be different. This time there would be no doubt. It was them, together. Above all else.

"Me and you, Carol. We're a family," he rasped. She tightened her grip on him in response.

He kissed the top of her head before he spoke again.

"You remember Mr. Johnson? With the arthritis?"

"Yeah."

"'Bout a week after they all came to the prison…he came up to me, asked me if I could tell him where he could find my wife." He paused, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Your wife?" She smiled. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were in the infirmary."

Her grin spread wider and she nuzzled herself further into him.

"He always would talk to me about you. Tell me you were a good boy," she smiled, remembering the man fondly. "I never understood why he felt the need to tell me where you were all the time. Not that I didn't appreciate it," she added.

Carol felt Daryl's chest quake gently with soft laughter.

"So what do we do now?" he asked after a breath.

"We try to find Beth."

"We try to find Beth," he repeated, as though he was testing out the words on his tongue. "Alright. Sounds like a good plan to me."

They held each other as they drifted into a deep sleep, leaving their pasts behind with the moonlight and letting the sun bring with it the promise of their next beginning.

* * *

**Ta-da!**

**So I really am hoping we get a little push back from Daryl when it comes to Rick next season...I read somewhere that Norman compared his relationship with Rick to the one he had with Merle, in a way...perhaps in the way Daryl basically followed Merle blindly, not really realizing his self-worth? Who knows, but it would certainly make for an interesting conflict between the two. ; )**

**The main thing is Caryl though...and now that we've seen so many pics of them filming together, it's only a matter of time before we get our reunion! **

**We'll get our Caryl soon, you guys, I can _feel_ it : ) oxoxox**


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